Molding Perfection
by Clouded-Days
Summary: AUish. Ryou is a teen with a list of problems who is struggling to model himself after the doll he owns. It's destroying him in so many ways but he doesn't care... Bakura knows the only thing to do is to get rid of the doll before it's too late. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Um. Yeah. This was rotting in my computer somewhere, and I figured since each of my current fics each have less than two chapters, why not jump in to something new? This is going to be a three-shot, probably, so it's not finished as of yet.

Anyway, this is a very..._bizzare _idea I thought of. I don't remember when I thought of it, but I wrote this chapter a few months ago... Of course, it's probably not that great... D: Hope you guys like it otherwise...

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

* * *

"Stop it, Ryou!" Bakura's voice erupted into a harsh scream. He loomed over the boy, his eyes nearly glowing with anger.

Bakura's jaw set as he watched Ryou continue finger the china doll in his arms, his thin digits tracing over the porcelain. The boy was completely ignoring him, and Bakura could feel an ocean of rage spill into his body. "I said _stop_!"

Ryou's hands stilled, and he finally looked up, his empty brown eyes locking with Bakura's crimson ones. The teenager wore no expression on his face.

"Give me the doll." Bakura thrust out one claw-like hand into Ryou's face, long fingernails mere inches away from Ryou's perfect face. "_Now_."

Ryou glanced down at the small object in his arms, which he still held gently. He then flicked his gaze back up to Bakura, who was glaring at him, his fingers shaking with barely controlled rage. For a moment, the smallest spark of worry could be seen in Ryou's empty brown eyes.

Bakura snarled, and snatched the beautiful figurine out of the boy's slender hands. Ryou gave a mute cry at this, and made a motion to reach out for it. Bakura growled, carelessly holding the doll around the neck. "Stop. Just knock it off."

Tears swelled in Ryou's chocolate eyes.

Bakura's nose wrinkled in a snarl. He lunged, his hand harshly colliding with Ryou's face in a powerful slap. Ryou's head turned from the force, and his bangs hid his eyes from view. "You already know I'm not going to break the stupid thing, so just calm down. You're so _pathetic_. Your only friend is a voiceless _doll_, Ryou."

Ryou's rounded shoulders started to shake, and even though Bakura could not get a clear view of the teen's mocha eyes, he knew Ryou was straining not to cry. He didn't know exactly why, but Ryou _never_ let the tears fall.

Bakura growled deep within his throat, and his hand made for Ryou once again. His bony fingers curled into Ryou's hair as he grabbed a large handful of the beautiful white locks, and Ryou froze as pain began to attack his body.

"Stop. It." Bakura's voice was in a dangerous tone, and he was shaking, knowing that he was bound to snap at any second. "Understand?"

Ryou nodded, just slightly, stock-still.

Bakura snorted and released his hold, before glaring at the china doll in his hand for a moment. His crimson, narrowed eyes then refocused on Ryou, the boy slumped on the floor, his white hair covering his chocolate orbs from view. "Get up," Bakura prodded him with his foot, his voice barely contained.

Ryou silently rose to his feet, his head bowed, so his gaze was obviously upon the floorboards. His shoulders were pushed back and his back was straight, despite his bowed head.

"Come on. It's almost seven, and we haven't eaten dinner yet." Bakura turned on his heel, still holding onto the glass figure by its neck, carelessly, and even swinging it. "And I'm in the mood for steak, Ryou. Make some of that."

Bakura's figure vanished down the hallway, leaving the teenager behind in the dusty bedroom.

* * *

Ryou was silent as he finished making Bakura's plate. The kitchen was dead silent, and unbelievably clean, thanks to Ryou.

The frail albino padded silently across the kitchen, his bare feet making nearly no noise at all on the hardwood floor. He bent down slightly as he opened the door to the refrigerator, and extracted a can of beer before closing the door again.

Bakura wasn't an alcoholic. He did occasionally drink, however, and that was typically on the weekends or a Friday night. The rest of the time he would just down a few cans of soda with his dinner.

Ryou collected Bakura's plate in one hand, the can of cold amber liquid in the other. He had grown accustomed to carrying it all at once, for he had to cook for Bakura every night. It was like a routine to him.

He entered the living room, which was dark, the only light coming from the television. Bakura was sprawled on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table, still in his boots. His leather trench coat was also on, and the tail of the jacket was puffed out a bit around his figure. A black tee shirt could also be seen and his black jeans were visible as well. The albino blended into the darkness quite easily, even when he wasn't wearing his usual all black outfits.

Bakura sat upright at the smell of food, and accepted the plate handed to him, taking the can of beer in his other hand. He then sank back into the couch, staring at the television, currently in the middle of a gory movie.

Ryou turned, and was about to leave, when a voice held him back. "Hey, where're you going?" Ryou made a slight motion to the kitchen, and then pointed to Bakura's plate.

Bakura snorted. "Can't the dishes wait?" He jerked a thumb at the empty section of the sofa next to him. "Come sit down."

Ryou blinked, and slowly made his way across the dark living room, making sure not to take too long. He hurriedly made it over to Bakura, who surprisingly patted the space on the sofa next to him. "Sit."

Ryou hesitated, but did so. He didn't speak, however, and he turned his eyes to the television for a moment, but the gruesome images made him turn his gaze away. He didn't really understand how Bakura could eat and watch things like that at the same time.

"You're acting strange." Bakura commented, tearing his gaze away from the screen as a commercial interrupted the showing.

Ryou just shrugged, not speaking, not meeting Bakura's crimson eyes.

Bakura frowned. Putting his feet to the floor, he set his plate down, and scooted closer to Ryou. "Come here."

Ryou obeyed without words, leaning over, where he placed himself against Bakura's side, able to feel Bakura's strong muscles against his skin. His stomach suddenly gave a low moan, and Ryou closed his eyes, swallowing, hoping Bakura hadn't heard.

He had, and Bakura's frown deepened as he heard the low grumble. "Why didn't you eat something? You should know better than to starve yourself, Ryou."

Ryou just shrugged inwardly, and Bakura knew he was trying to get the point across that he just didn't want to eat.

"You have to eat _something_, kid. You're already terribly thin." Bakura felt Ryou lean more into his side right then, and he could feel Ryou's ribs against his torso. "I _mean_ it, Ryou."

Ryou didn't answer. He barely ever ate anything, and the effects were clear. Not only was he tired almost all the time, but his weight had plummeted. What used to be his slender, yet healthy figure was now the form of a sickeningly thin teenager, bones visibly pushing outward. All his clothes were too large, but he didn't bother to buy new ones. It didn't matter to him.

"Ryou, I'm serious." Bakura said, pulling back slightly so that he could stare at the frail sixteen-year-old. A frown was etched into Bakura's face as he stared.

Ryou's white hair was almost as long as his, reaching the middle of his back, but Bakura's ended at his hips. Ryou's face was still perfect, the skin still flawless, but Ryou's skin tone had dulled even more, paler than it used to be. There were dark rings beneath the boy's empty brown eyes, which used to be full of life, but no longer. Ryou's clothes were too large for him, and they often were so baggy you couldn't see Ryou's figure beneath the clothing. Sometimes the sleeves even slipped down his shoulders. He had worn a belt with his jeans before it all, but now Ryou had to pull the belt tighter to keep his pants up; he had skipped a good few number of holes in the belt.

Bakura pulled Ryou against him again, feeling Ryou's ribs press again his arm once more. Bakura could remember when Ryou was still healthy, but now, his body was sickening to huddle against or to touch. Bakura could feel the bones pressing against his flesh. Ryou's stomach caved in beneath his ribs, which stuck out terribly, and Bakura could easily see the boy's hipbones. Luckily, things weren't so bad; Ryou's collarbone was still slightly hidden beneath the skin, and his spine wasn't visible, but Bakura knew that it wouldn't be much longer before the bones would show there, too.

He had tried to get Ryou to eat, to gain back the weight, but Ryou didn't really seem to care, merely shrugging it off.

"I don't know what to do with you," Bakura said softly, sighing. "I mean, you never used to be this way. You would talk to me and eat just fine, and you would laugh all the time… But then that stupid doll came along… And you _changed_, Ryou, just like that. You don't even talk anymore. The only time you eat is when I'm practically shoving food down your throat…"

Ryou merely shrugged.

"Listen, Ryou." Bakura pulled himself away, staring hard into Ryou's empty chocolate eyes. "You know I care about you, but I can't help but scream at you sometimes. I mean, you keep revolving your life around that china doll, and it's making me _furious_. It's stupid how you'll get all emotional over something that is a mere inanimate object. It doesn't make any sense, and you know it ticks me off when you carry that thing around, looking at it like it's a real human being." Bakura sighed, dragging a clawed hand through his hair. "Look, Ryou. I don't know what made you this way, but I think that doll needs to go. Look what it's done to-"

Ryou suddenly frantically shook his head, leaping back and staring at Bakura with enormous mocha eyes. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out of it.

Bakura's crimson eyes narrowed. "Yes, I am. I'm getting rid of it, Ryou, because you've been revolving yourself around it so much you wrecked your life!"

Ryou froze, before shaking his head again.

"_Yes_, Ryou!" Bakura suddenly screamed, sizing up, his hand already drawn back, but he fell still as Ryou clenched his eyes shut, shaking, merely awaiting the blow. "…It has to go," he whispered, dropping his hand.

Tears flooded Ryou's eyes, but they did not fall. The scrawny teen suddenly leapt to his feet, and took off down the dark hallway, vanishing from sight.

Bakura moaned, sinking into the couch, and cradled his head in his hands, cursing softly to himself.

He _hated_ it when it ended up this way.

He dragged himself to his feet, not bothering to even touch his dinner. He wasn't hungry anymore. He did, however, pick up his can of beer, and he dragged himself into the kitchen.

It wasn't like he purposely screamed at or hit Ryou. He didn't mean to. He really didn't. But sometimes he just couldn't hold in his anger, and he would just take it out upon Ryou. The man knew he had issues with controlling his rage, but he just couldn't help it… And he _hated_ it when he couldn't control himself and wound up hitting Ryou, because he knew that even when Ryou annoyed him, he didn't deserve to be struck.

Bakura honestly didn't know what to do anymore. Ryou had always been a good kid; he had great marks in school, he never talked back or disobeyed, and he used to be so happy and carefree… And _normal_.

And now Bakura wasn't even sure of how to handle the situation. He knew that doll had done something to Ryou's head, but he couldn't place his finger on what the exact cause could've been.

Bakura's fists shook suddenly, and he screamed, punching the wall, crushing the empty tin can in his other hand. He punched the wall once more, feeling his knuckles throbbing as he began to bruise them, but he didn't care about that.

Bakura pulled his fist away from the wall, the crumpled aluminum can still wedged in his shaking hand. With his back up against the wall, he slowly sank to the floor of the kitchen.

He just felt helpless.

He didn't know what to do. The china doll had come into the picture nearly a year ago, and ever since that day, Ryou had changed. At first, it was nothing serious. Ryou became quieter than before, and he didn't produce as much laughter. But over the months, things began to go off the deep end. Ryou stopped eating, refused to talk or produce emotion in any way…

And now Bakura could see the horrible effects, knowing he should have acted sooner. But when it started, he thought it was merely a phase Ryou was going through… But with it going on for a full year… It was more than that.

Bakura dropped the crushed can before grabbing handfuls of his hair in his hands. His legs were against his chest, and glared at the floor. _Maybe it's all my fault… I didn't act soon enough…_

_I'm sorry, Ryou, I should have tried to help you._

Bakura released his grip on his wild locks and sighed deeply, resting his chin on his knees, wine colored eyes still fixed on the floor.

It hurt. It hurt to know that it was a possibility he was the cause of all this. That he was the one to blame for Ryou hurting himself like this; the cause of him starving himself, to be the cause of his withdrawal.

Bakura's body tensed up. It felt like someone just stabbed a needle in his heart, and every time he thought about it, every time he saw Ryou, it felt like someone was pushing it further and further in…

-

Ryou was silent. He had merely hid around the corner of the hall, waiting for Bakura to go elsewhere so that he could listen without being caught. Now he was in the living room, his frail figure pushed against the wall. He barely dared to breathe as he listened.

"It's all my fault!" Bakura's voice was screaming. There was a sickening thud as the man slammed his fist against the hardwood floor. "It's all my _fault_!"

Ryou swallowed. He had tried to so hard not to cry when Bakura told him he was going to take the china doll away from him, and he succeeded in holding in the tears. And then he had gone to see Bakura's actions, to see if he really was as concerned as he said he was…

And now he felt bad for doubting him.

Deep down inside, he wanted to go inside and comfort him, to tell him it wasn't his fault he was this way… But that would be an impossible task.

Comfort is a form of emotion, and he isn't allowed to show any.

-

Bakura drove his fist against the floor again, angry emotions overflowing, unable to be contained. He barely felt the pain in his hands, unable to feel the bruising, unable to feel the blood leaking from the torn skin.

The needle being thrust into his heart was enough of a distraction.

Bakura angrily pounded his fist against the floor once again, putting in as much force as he could. He felt something crack in his hand from the pressure, but he didn't care. He couldn't feel it.

He was screaming, mostly at himself. He kept pounding against the floor as if it was a punching bag, his entire body shaking with uncontrollable rage.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

He slammed his fist down one more time, before he screamed, grasping handfuls of his hair in his bleeding hands. He screamed as loud as he could, the pain just too much for him to handle.

He was cut off in the middle of a scream as he choked. He clamped his eyes shut, saline water escaping the closed eyes and pouring down his face.

He buried his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably, completely breaking down, it all just too much for him to take.

"Get a hold of yourself." He tearfully muttered this to himself, finally able to speak again. "Stop _crying_. Ryou doesn't cry, so why should you?"

He glanced down at his hand. The knuckles were already blackened and it was dripping blood, and he was sure he had broken a bone or two.

He swore, slumping against the wall, his eyes raised heavenward. He collected himself seconds later, and he got to his feet. Not even bothering to take care of his injured hand, he merely threw away the crushed beer can, which was still tossed on the floor, before heading into the living room.

Ryou had left by now.

Bakura sniffed slightly before collapsing into the couch again. By just looking, it was impossible to tell that he had been crying.

Bakura moaned, propping his feet back up onto the coffee table, ignoring his dinner, which sat innocently next to his black leather boots. His crimson eyes rose heavenward once again, and he sighed deeply, holding one hand to his head.

Ryou was the one closest to his heart, and they both knew this. But now it killed Bakura to even _look _at the scrawny teenager. It just hurt too much…

For a while, Bakura avoided Ryou, locking himself up in his room. And even though Bakura knew Ryou didn't like to show any emotion at all, he could tell that these actions greatly hurt the frail albino.

He had stopped locking himself away, and he just learned to choke it all back and continue to treat Ryou humanly, trying to ignore the pain that overtook his heart every time he saw the teen's horrid state.

He could feel his head pulsing with pain now, and his heart felt like it was going to just cave in or explode, the same pricking sensation happening again.

He just wanted it to stop. And he knew what he needed to do in order to make all of this come to a halt.

The china doll.

Oh, sure, Bakura had tried to get rid of it before. Many times, actually. But Ryou always gave him such a look, such a hurt filled glance, as if that a piece of him was going with the fragile porcelain… Bakura always caved in and gave the doll back, but then he hated himself later for doing it, angry with himself that he gave up once more by Ryou just _looking _at him. He hated himself for quitting, because he knew that he could have just gotten rid of the doll and it could be all over with.

And every time, a knife was driven through his heart, for returning the precious item only caused more pain and trouble.

Bakura hated it how Ryou held the doll. He cradled it like a newborn baby, fingering the glass face and body with a gentle, bony finger. Sometimes, Ryou would even talk to it, as if it was real.

Bakura knew Ryou had forced himself to stop speaking altogether, but sometimes, late at night, if he pressed an ear against the door, and barely breathed, he could hear Ryou talking.

Oh, his voice had changed so much, as Bakura soon realized. Ryou's voice used to be so pure and gentle, almost like bells… But months of keeping silent were showing, for now Ryou's once beautiful voice was hoarse and was never more than a whisper, and it cracked quite often as he spoke.

It broke Bakura's heart even more to hear the teen's broken voice in the middle of the night, and also to realize that his look-alike had changed so much that he now spoke to inanimate objects as if they were his best friends.

Bakura had even tried to buy Ryou something else to take his mind off the glass doll, but no. Ryou had merely clutched the doll tighter if Bakura asked if he wanted something, knowing that Bakura only wanted to replace the figurine.

It almost sickened Bakura how attached the sixteen-year-old was to it.

And Bakura didn't know what to make of it. All he saw was a doll, with fake brown eyes and false glass hair with a far too unreal shape and figure. Bakura didn't understand what Ryou saw in it…

Bakura had once snatched it out of Ryou's hands and nearly threw it against the wall. He was so close to doing it… But then Ryou froze, and Bakura watched the tears flood the boy's eyes, barely being contained.

He had once again handed the doll over, for he feared deep down that Ryou would cry. He never liked it when Ryou cried. Sure, he never did so anymore, but back before the doll, sometimes Ryou would get so upset he would lock himself in his room and just lay on his bed sobbing. And that was another thing that made it feel like something sharp was being driven through Bakura's chest.

He hated that feeling. Why couldn't he just suck it up and go through with it?

But Bakura had plenty of willpower now. He was sick of it. He knew what had to be done.

And that was that the little porcelain doll _had_ to go, no matter how much Ryou protested against it, no matter the reaction. It _had_ to be done.

* * *

Chapter 1: End.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well... This was going okay until I hit the middle of this chapter, and I started having a ton of issues when it came to writing it from then on, so... I'm sorry if this chapter seems bad. D:

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

* * *

Bakura sank sharp canines into the flesh of his lower lip as he pressed an ear against the door. He couldn't hear anything from inside, but he didn't know if Ryou was actually asleep yet or just being quiet…

Sucking in a trembling breath, Bakura curled a bony hand about the doorknob and twisted it, pushing the door open just slightly. It creaked softly, and Bakura immediately stopped moving it to peer inside.

He felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. Bakura, from across the bedroom, could see Ryou curled up in a little ball under the sheets draped across his bed, closed eyes underlined with dark rings and his hair falling over those eyes. But what bothered Bakura was the fact that the little china doll was sitting upright on the empty section next to Ryou's pillow.

Bakura pushed the door open a little further, before padding silently into the bedroom and making his way over to the side of Ryou's bed. He found himself staring down at the fragile little teen, and all of a sudden, he reached out with an angular hand, letting his thumb trail down the side of Ryou's face, feather light against Ryou's cheekbone. _And to think… This is now a mere shell of the carefree little boy I used to know…_

He turned his attention onto the china doll then, reaching out, and picking it up and off the bed. He held it in his arms, staring almost blankly down at the figurine. Crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the appearance.

He could see a resemblance. Doe brown eyes were set on a round, perfect face, hiding beneath long, black lashes. And that face was framed by straight, motionless locks of hair, hugging that of pale, milky skin. And yet, those fake eyes held onto emotion, and they looked so empty and sad…

_Just like Ryou. _Bakura bit his lip as he pulled away from the bed, but he was unable to tear his eyes from the doll in his hands. _They both look so empty and upset… Never showing a sliver of emotion…_

Bakura finally managed to tear his gaze away as he slipped quietly into the hallway, holding the little porcelain figurine in one hand. He grasped the doorknob, and pulled the door closed, and padded down the hall in the direction of the living room. And yet, as he left, inside the bedroom, a set of doe brown eyes cracked slowly open.

-

Bakura quietly slipped into the kitchen, hugging the figurine to his chest. His heart pounded erratically against his line of ribs, as if it was going to rip free of his chest. Unsteady breaths of nervousness passed through his lungs, and his hands shook with anxiety.

He finally set the pale china doll down upon the kitchen table, being as quiet as possible as he laid it down upon its back. Empty, marble-like eyes remained motionless.

Bakura felt a trail of nervous sweat cascade down the back of his neck then, and he bit his lip as he reached for the item he had left on the table. He hefted it in his hands, fingers brushing the steel for a brief moment before he raised it above his head.

His hands shook as he wrapped his fingers about it tighter. He bit his lip. He didn't _want _to destroy it, but he had no choice. He had to do it now, or never. During the day, he would not have the opportunity; Ryou always dragged the china doll everywhere, whether it be cradled in his arms, or in his bag during school…

He took in another sharp breath of air, fingers wrapping tight about the handle. He knew Ryou would more than likely awaken from the noise, but he didn't care at the moment. He had to get it over with…

Gritting his teeth, Bakura swung, bringing the tool down against glass. In an instant, the fragile doll broke upon the table, bits of once beautifully painted glass sliding over the table and falling to the floor as the force of the near weapon easily shattered it.

Bakura raised it again, and brought it down just as swiftly, letting the metal tear through the glass, breaking the doll into millions of pieces in the tiny kitchen.

Bakura panted as he finally dropped the hammer, letting it fall to the floor. The tool hit the floor loudly, leaving a small dent in the floorboards. Bakura's knees trembled under him, as if struggling to support his weight, and he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs weakly.

Crimson eyes fell over the meager remnants of the china doll, scattered all about the tiny, kitchen table. Small shards of painted glass were covering the floor and the surface of the table, accompanied by larger chunks and powdered dust, resulting from some of the material being completely crushed. The near marble eyes had rolled under the table, and the hair of the beautiful doll remained attached to some of the glass, despite Bakura's assault.

_I did it. I finally did it. _Bakura smiled weakly to himself, leaning back in his chair. _I destroyed it. I finally destroyed it._

The base of his issue was over. Maybe now he could try to stitch Ryou back together again, to try to help him-

There was what sounded close to a choke suddenly, followed by a weak whimper, snapping Bakura out of his musings.

Bakura whirled around in his chair, jumping a good four inches into the air. His crimson eyes locked with that of chocolate, and Bakura swallowed. Tears glistened in Ryou's eyes, dangerously close to escaping. The scrawny boy's entire body was shaking violently, and his chin trembled in an attempt to keep quiet. He had one hand curled about the doorframe, and Bakura could visibly see his legs shaking under him. Yet, Ryou didn't move an inch towards him…

Bakura stood up with a small clatter, a hand cast onto the top of the table, and he took one step forward, "R-Ryou, just listen to me-"

Ryou recoiled, eyes like that of a deer's, hurt and frightened. His tears glistened in his eyes, clinging to his long, black eyelashes.

"Ryou?" Bakura whispered, extending one hand towards the boy as he took one more pace towards him. "Ryou, what's wrong?"

It was abnormal. Bakura wasn't sure of what to expect at this point. Never, in the past year, had Bakura seen Ryou act this way. And yet, he was able to feel a certain tension in the air, sending a shiver down his back, and he feared a dam was about to break.

With a few hurried strides, Bakura went forward, hands extended, like a means of comfort, trying to accept the boy into his arms. Instead, Ryou leapt backwards, eyes growing even wider. And as Bakura took a step forward, the teen took a step backwards, the two going into the living room.

Finally, Ryou had nowhere else to go. He had backed himself up into a corner of the living room, and he bit his lip as he looked into Bakura's crimson eyes. He cringed back, about to run, when Bakura placed his hands against the wall, his arms blocking the boy in.

"Ryou. I did it for a reason," the man whispered, not liking how Ryou was backing himself up as far as possible into the wall… "Ryou, please, just listen to me…"

Bakura raised his hand to touch Ryou's cheek, bony fingers touching the skin, when suddenly, Ryou screamed.

Bakura leapt back slightly, but did not move his hands, knowing if he did, Ryou would surely run away. Instead, he merely watched in shock as the teen before him broke into a loud, continuous series of screams. Ryou's legs went weak, and he sank onto his rear upon the floor, screaming as he wrapped his arms about himself, almost protectively. Suddenly, he choked, and it felt as if someone had just ripped his heart out. Having nothing left to hold himself together, his final threads cut apart, he broke into tears.

Bakura just stood there, eyes wide as he stared at the teen crumpled at his feet. Ryou was sobbing so hard he was struggling to breathe, choking and gasping as tears burst from those eyes… He shook violently, arms wrapped so tightly about himself Bakura was beginning to become frightened.

Bakura, without words, crouched down before the boy. And yet, even as he did so, he didn't know what to say as a means of comfort. Bakura knew the reason for his tears had to be the doll's destruction, but Bakura was unsure if the boy actually knew why he did it…

Bakura reached out then, trying to take Ryou's tender face into his hands, but Ryou whimpered, drawing himself up into a smaller ball, arms tightening as his sobs only grew harder.

"Ryou?" Bakura whispered, worry edging his voice. He didn't know what to do… If Ryou wouldn't let him touch him, or even listen, how could he help? "Ryou, please… Look at me…"

He tried again, this time trying to tilt the boy's head up with his bony fingers, but Ryou only recoiled yet again, this time letting out a cry, as if he had just been struck. "D… D-Don't…"

Crimson eyes widened, and Bakura gasped softly, that feeling returning. Ryou's voice was so broken and hoarse, so different from the musical, beautiful one he used to know…

It felt like something sharp was being driven through his heart again. _And to think… All because of a stupid doll…_

He tried once more, this time grabbing Ryou's chin in his hand, trying to tilt it up with force. "Come on, Ryou, at least let me explain-"

"_No!" _Ryou suddenly screamed, pushing at Bakura then as the man's hold grew tight. "_Let go!"_

"Ryou, stop!" Bakura grabbed the boy's shoulders in strong hands, trying to hold the boy still. "Just listen to me! I did it for you! Why don't you understand that?! I did it because I care about you! You've already wrapped yourself up so tightly about that doll you've completely lost yourself, and I knew if I didn't do something, I would surely lose you…"

"You d-don't understand," Ryou growled through his tears, sobs and hiccups still escaping past pink lips. "Y-You just don't g-get it."

"You're right. Some things I don't, mainly because you refused to talk." Bakura reached out and caressed the boy's cheek in one hand then, "Why? Why did you do this? What made you so captivated?"

Ryou sniffed, and shook his head, biting his lip, hard. It was like he didn't want to tell Bakura, even if there was no longer a reason to hold it a secret…

"Ryou, I'm not stupid. Something obviously went off in your head to make you like this." Bakura's eyes narrowed. "Was that doll alive?"

"N-No," Ryou whispered weakly, wiping at his eyes tearfully. "B-But… I-It was just so…perfect."

Bakura blinked, pulling back slightly, obviously taken by surprise by the boy's answer. "…W… What do you mean?"

"She… She was just so perfect, B-Bakura." Ryou was crying again. "S-She was just so pretty, a-and she was flawless. I… I-I j-just…"

"Ryou." The man squeezed the teenager's shoulders again. "You're not making any sense. She was just a stupid doll, of course she was going to be perfectly unreal. What does that have to do with you beating yourself up like this?"

"I… I w-wanted to be l-like her," Ryou answered quietly, tears spilling over his red-rimmed eyes. "S-She… She was so beautiful. A-And I knew she w-wasn't real, but… S-She just seemed to know self-control. She was so perfect. A-And I thought t-that, if I was like her… M-Maybe I could actually get through my days without e-everyone screwing with me. N-No one picks on people that seem untouchable. A-And I wanted to be invulnerable, j-just like her. T-To actually look nice, to actually seem like I know what I'm doing. T-That I know when to shut up or act like nothing bugs me… Like the loneliness. S-She was all by herself and needed a friend, but she never complained, not ever… I-I wanted to be able to act like that, too…"

Ryou hiccupped again, rubbing desperately at his eyes in an attempt to slow the tears. "B-But I never was like her. T-That's why I kept trying and trying, b-but I always failed at being like her. A-And I realized… I couldn't ever be like her. B-But instead of making me quit, it only… M-Made me want to be more like her. T-To know that I'm not a t-total failure…"

Bakura pursed his lips as he stared at the fragile teen before him, the small albino shaking uncontrollably as tears spilled down his face, despite his efforts. With a small, silent sigh, Bakura clasped a hand atop of the boy's head. "Look at me, Ryou. Stop crying and look at me."

Ryou sniffled weakly, chin trembling as he tried to stem his flow of tears.

"Listen, Ryou…" Bakura wiped away the boy's tears with his thumb, looking into his chocolate eyes. "I don't know why you acted like that. You're a very special person, and you know it. You're nowhere close to ugly, and you're a very smart kid. People pick on you due to jealousy, not because you're stupid or because you're weak…"

Bakura brushed a lock of snowy hair out of the boy's eyes, smiling slightly. "But you can't ever be perfect, you should know that. The doll had no life in her. She had no voice, no emotion; she could easily be deemed as perfection. But us people… We're different, and you know it. We aren't empty like that, and we can't be deemed as perfection, no matter what."

Ryou sniffed, his vastly empty eyes falling downcast to his feet, which were bare. "Y… Y-You're lying. Y-You're only acting, t-to try to make me feel less horrible about myself. A-Aren't you?"

"No, I'm not." Bakura dared to release his hold on the child at his feet, hoping Ryou wouldn't bolt from the scene. "I really do think of you as someone special. You don't deserve to be in this condition… That's why I destroyed the doll in the first place. I didn't want you to get any worse, Ryou."

Bakura wiped the final amount of teardrops from Ryou's face. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, he smiled. "And that's not a meager lie, either."

"R… Really?" Ryou's eyes widened just slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching somewhat in an uncontrollable smile. "Y-You mean it?"

"Yes." Bakura was nearly beaming. "I swear, Ryou, I wouldn't lie to you, and you know it."

Ryou's chin trembled then, tears swimming in his chocolate eyes. "T-Then you don't hate me?"

"Ryou… Why would I hate you?" Bakura asked, a frown causing his features to crease somewhat. "I could never hate you, you should know that."

Then, in a flash, Ryou had flung himself forward, against Bakura's slender form. He buried his face into the crook of neck and laced his arms about the base of his neck amidst a mane of snowy hair, and he hugged as tight as he possibly could. His voice was muffled as he spoke, not only due to the skin in his way, but also due to a new wave of sobbing, "I thought you h-hated me."

"Never, Ryou. I have no reason to," the demon answered, wrapping his arms about Ryou's back, swallowing as his fingers brushed that of bone. "But… Promise me something."

"W-What?" Ryou asked, raising his head to meet Bakura's gaze.

"You have to change," he whispered, fingers buried in Ryou's hair. "I… I had a hard time dealing with you like this. It… It really hurt to see you, and I just felt so pathetic to know I couldn't help you…"

"I'm sorry," Ryou sniffled as he rested his forehead into the crook of Bakura's neck. "I-I didn't know you felt so horrible about it. I-I thought you were more angry than you were upset-"

"I was scared I was going to lose you entirely," Bakura answered, closing his crimson eyes. "The way things were headed, I just… I just knew I had to act before time ran out."

"…I'm sorry," Ryou said again, sniffling against Bakura's slender neck. "I-I'll change, I-I promise… I-I promise I'll stop making you worry about me… A-And I'll be the one to lead. I-I'll be the one to make you feel better now."

Bakura grinned slightly, but he didn't respond to Ryou's words. Instead, he merely untangled himself from Ryou, sitting before the boy for a long moment in silence, before he sighed, a small smile touching his lips. "Come on. Let's get some food into you."

He stood up then, and Ryou blinked in surprise. It was only as Bakura started to vanish that Ryou followed, but with much slower paces.

By the time he entered the kitchen, he found Bakura collecting the final pieces of the shattered doll into one hand, obviously to through them in the trash. After collecting all the main fragments, Bakura threw them away before turning to the stove to cook Ryou's meal.

Ryou decided to stay quiet, and merely took a seat at the kitchen table. He felt a little twinge inside of his chest as he noticed some small pieces of porcelain scattered on the tabletop, but he bit his lip, shaking his head as he tried to shake the thoughts of the now destroyed doll out of his mind.

Ryou craned his neck to gaze across the kitchen in Bakura's direction in an attempt to see what he was cooking. He couldn't tell, but the scent seemed familiar…

It was only a few minutes before Bakura turned around, and walked over to the table, setting down a bowl of soup in front of the teen. The man then took a seat across from Ryou at the small, somewhat rickety table. He cupped his face in his hands as he stared at the teenager from across the table, "Go ahead."

Ryou hesitantly obeyed. It felt…bizarre, in a way, to be eating in the same room as Bakura again. After all, it had literally been months since they ate in the same room, and weeks since Ryou ate at all…

But even though it was strange, it seemed…nice, even, to be doing the same thing over again, even if it was as small of an activity as this.

* * *

Chapter 2: End.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So, here's the final chapter! With this finally posted I can start chipping away at my new fics, so be on the lookout for those, okay? Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

* * *

He had kept his promise.

Things had changed, like Ryou had promised him. He was eating again, talking to him, producing his emotions once more like he couldn't care less about what others saw… But what made Bakura the happiest was the fact that he could see Ryou's smile again, and to hear that captivating laughter once more…

Wine-colored eyes cracked open then, glazed slightly with that of tiredness. Bakura blinked as his bangs fell into his eyes, and he snorted, rolling over so that he was on his back. He stared blankly up at the cream ceiling, not really wanting to get up. After all, his little spot under the covers was actually warm, and with it being so cold outside lately, that meant the house was bound to be freezing…

The demon glanced at the clock that sat next to his bed on a little table, and he blinked drowsily against the glowing red numbers. It was nine-thirty… He usually didn't wake up until near noon…

Sighing, and unable to go back to sleep, the man decided to get up. A shiver ran through his body at the sudden shift in temperature, but he tried to shake it off. He stretched for a long moment, cracking his bones and warming up his muscles before he allowed himself to do anything.

He shivered again, and shuffled across the bedroom, clad only in his boxers. He dug through his dresser for a long moment, before extracting a baggy t-shirt and a pair of loose jeans, before he tugged the said clothing on over his nearly bare form. He also found a hair tie, and pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail, the snowy strands fluffed from his sleep.

He would've gone to take a long, hot shower if he wasn't so tired…

Bakura finally drifted out of his room, but paused midway down the hall to gaze into Ryou's room. He smiled, just slightly, at the sight of the teenager curled up in a little ball under the covers, which were drawn up to his chin, a content smile touching his lips.

Quietly, Bakura padded inside the room and towards the bed. He knew the pattern of the floorboards by now, and avoided the ones that creaked with ease. Soon he made it to the side of the bed, and stared down at the sleeping teenager.

With bony fingers, he reached out, and touched the side of the boy's face, his touch feather light. He smiled, just slightly, as Ryou shifted in his sleep at the touch, snuggling deeper under the sheets.

"You know…" Bakura whispered, his voice barely audible. It was like a near death plea than anything else. "You're doing so much better now."

The man took a step backwards, unable to help but grin.

He turned on his heel and slipped out of the room and made his way down the hall, heading for the stairs.

* * *

Ryou's eyes fluttered open, a strange scent beginning to lace his bedroom.

Almost immediately the teenager sat upright, blinking a few times in surprise. And then, it finally registered; it was the smell of food.

Blinking once more in confusion, the boy got out of bed, and drifted out into the hall, quickly making his way down the steps and into the living room, before padding into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, however, unable to help but grin at the sight.

Bakura was standing before the stove, his eyes half-lidded as he poked at a still cooking pancake with a spatula. Two plates sat beside the stove, both half-filled with bacon, eggs, and a slice of toast.

Bakura yawned as he managed to turn the still cooking food over, rubbing at his eyes with a few fingers. He was still so tired…

He jumped as he felt arms suddenly wrap around him, and he whirled around the best he could, before coming face-to-face with Ryou. He smiled then as he realized the situation. Ryou's arms were warm about his stomach, and he felt a little twinge of want when Ryou pulled away. He still felt cold…

"You're up early," Ryou stated, smiling somewhat sleepily. "It's not even eleven yet."

"Mm," Bakura shrugged somewhat, turning back to the pancakes he was making. "'Woke up and couldn't go back to sleep… Anyway, breakfast is ready…"

Bakura put a few pancakes onto Ryou's plate and his own before making his way over to the fridge and pulling out the carton of orange juice to pour them both a glass of the substance.

It was only a few more minutes before they were both sitting at the table.

Things had changed. Bakura no longer ate alone in the living room in front of the television, but instead in the light of the kitchen with Ryou before him, where they talked of their lives. Bakura liked it a whole lot more than the old tradition… He didn't feel as lonely anymore.

Bakura grinned slightly as he watched Ryou eat. He was glad Ryou's condition had improved. It took a long time just to get Ryou to stomach anything, for he often got sick while trying to eat. After Bakura got him to eat again, he started to make bigger meals for the boy in an attempt to get Ryou to gain weight. After all, he had been so sickeningly skinny Bakura had feared some kind of disorder would take over.

"What?" Ryou asked, frowning from across the table at the thief.

"Nothing," Bakura answered. "I'm just glad to see you returning to normal."

Ryou rolled his eyes at the older one's comment. "You worry too much. We've already talked about this, remember?"

"I know, but I can't help it," Bakura murmured, poking at his meal with his fork. "I mean… I could've lost you. I was…really scared of that. And now I just guess I'm being…overprotective, I suppose…"

Bakura bit his lip, hard, as he stabbed into his food with the silver item in his hand. "I was…afraid of becoming alone again. I didn't want for you to disappear, to die… And I knew if you did, I…"

"…Earlier, I…" Ryou swallowed as he stared at Bakura from across the small table, although the man was not looking back. "I really didn't even think you cared about me. I mean… You used to scream at me a lot, and sometimes you… You would hit me, and then you'd be all nice again…"

Hands clenched into that of fists under the table, and Bakura cringed. "I… I lost control a lot, I know. But seeing you with that doll, loving it, talking to it… It drove me crazy, Ryou. I hated seeing you with that thing. It was ripping you to shreds, and you didn't even realize it. You know I've always had anger issues, but… I never expected to take them out on you. I really didn't want for it to come out like that, but sometimes, I just couldn't take it… I never thought of you any different; I still cared more than you could imagine, I just let my anger overpower me too many times… I… I'm sorry, Ryou… I never…"

Ryou blinked as Bakura suddenly stood up with a clatter, and the teen's eyes widened as he, too, stood up. "W-Wait, where are you going?"

Bakura didn't reply, but as he tried to walk away, Ryou rushed away from his spot and towards him, latching onto his arm. "Please. Don't go. I'm not angry, I was just…curious. Please, don't go away."

Bakura sighed heavily as he pulled away, giving a little nod at the boy's words. "…All right."

Ryou gave a happy smile and sat back down at the table, waiting for Bakura to sit back down before continuing to eat his breakfast.

* * *

Bakura sighed softly, the said man curled up in a little ball upon the corner of the sofa. A cushion sat in-between his knees and his chest, his chin resting upon the stuffed object. His eyes were heavy and irritated, and he was dreadfully tired, but he couldn't sleep.

He rubbed at his eyes, sighing again as he stretched out a little on the couch. He then stared mutely up at the pale ceiling, his mind racing, and in the stillness that seemed to be suffocating him, he could almost hear his heart beating.

He knew he was worried, but it seemed stupid. After all, what was left to worry about? Everything was better now, right?

Bakura bit his lip, burying his face into one palm. It still felt bizarre, and he didn't feel assured. In fact, he felt even more worried than before. Scared, even.

_Ryou could easily revert back to it all, even if he did promise me. After all, it isn't hard to break those stupid little pacts… _Bakura groaned. _I don't want to lose him to all of that stuff again. I don't want to see him go hungry or to be in so much pain anymore… I just want him to be happy, not miserable with himself._

"Bakura?"

The man jumped a good few inches, his head snapping around to find himself staring at Ryou, who stood at the base at the stairs. The teen looked only half-asleep, using the wall to support his weight. "What are you doing up so late? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Bakura snorted, "What about you, kid? Shouldn't _you _be sleeping as well?"

"Well I _was… _But I woke because I had to use the bathroom," the teenager answered as he shuffled across the dim and somewhat cold living room, to take a seat next to Bakura on the couch. "So… Why are you up?"

"'Couldn't sleep," Bakura muttered, sitting up so that they could share the sofa. "'Have a lot on my mind."

"Mm?" Ryou sleepily raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Bakura bit his lip. He couldn't just go right out and tell Ryou he didn't trust him; that would be much too harsh, especially after the previous year of events. He didn't want that to reoccur… "Well… I was kind of thinking of that talk we had a few days ago-"

"After… You broke the doll?" Ryou asked tiredly, blinking heavily.

Bakura noticed, however, that even as the doll was brought up, there was no reaction. No words or looks, no emotion in those healed chocolate eyes. This brought Bakura a bit of relief… "Yeah."

"Well, what about it? Are you worried or something?" Ryou asked as he brought his legs up onto the couch, hugging them to his chest and letting out a small yawn.

"…A little," Bakura confessed softly, nibbling on his lower lip. "I just… Ryou, don't take it the wrong way or anything… I mean, I trust you and all, but with the past cycle of events, I just don't really know what to expect… You know?"

Ryou blinked once, his tired mind trying to comprehend Bakura's explanation. His blank look showed, however, that he didn't understand.

"Well… I mean… I think I'm just worried about you," Bakura said. "After all the stuff that went on earlier… The doll, the starving… I just… I think I'm just afraid I'm going to lose you to another situation like that… That you're going to get connected to something and that the whole cycle is going to happen again… And I don't want that-"

"Bakura, it isn't going to happen again, I promise you," Ryou interrupted, giving a small, tired smile. "I wouldn't do that to you. You've been through enough stress already. Besides, I… I don't want to experience any of that again. It was stressful, and painful, and I felt like I was the one losing _you. _It felt like you were slipping away from me, like we were just two strangers living in the same house. It was like we didn't know each other anymore… And I hated that…"

"I didn't even know you hated it," Bakura whispered through the stillness between them. "I thought it was some…psychological issue you were going through. I thought you knew what you were doing, that you could handle it. But as time kept slipping past, I just realized things weren't going to get any better… They were going to get worse and worse until there was nothing left to lose but yourself…"

Ryou didn't reply this time. The two albinos sat upon the couch for a long time in silence, not speaking, not looking at each other, pouring over their own thoughts.

However, it was Ryou who broke the silence, "You thought of me differently. I realized that much."

"…I did," Bakura confessed, eyes cast downward. "I… I was almost afraid of you. That if I said something wrong or did something to hurt you, I would shatter you. And seeing you… It really hurt. I still cared, but sometimes… I was just afraid I was going to be the death of you.

"But now… It's a different story. You and I… We're different than before, I know that. It feels…strange, I guess, after being in that position for nearly a year. And now, we're like…each other's protector. Earlier it wasn't anywhere close to that, but now it's a lot different… It feels…a whole lot better now, too. Not as…stressful. Healthier…"

Bakura smiled slightly at Ryou, who was staring at the floor, obviously only half-awake. "Go to bed, Ryou. Get some sleep."

"'Don't wanna," Ryou murmured.

"…Come on." Bakura stood up, but when Ryou didn't stand, the man sighed, and scooped the form of the boy into his arms, smiling slightly. "Fine. I'll carry you instead."

He chuckled slightly as he began to make his way towards the boy's bedroom, getting a slight twinge of amusement as Ryou's pale cheeks reddened somewhat. It was a very faint blush, but Bakura saw the embarrassed action through the darkness.

He carried the boy into his room, and with surprisingly gentle movements, set him down, before pulling the covers up and over Ryou's thin form. Without words, the man turned around on his heel and started to leave, when he felt a tug on the fabric of his sleeveless black shirt.

He turned, staring questioningly down at the boy. Ryou stared up at him, chocolate eyes wide and even a little frightened. "What is it?" Bakura murmured, pulling himself free of the teenager's grasp.

"C… Can you stay? Just for a few minutes?" Ryou's eyes were wide and hopeful as he spoke. "Please…?"

"Why?" Bakura asked, but despite his question, he sat down anyway. He placed himself at the foot of the bed, staring at Ryou underneath spiky bangs. "You scared of the dark?"

"N-No," Ryou's answered, albeit softly. "I just… I just wanted to talk to you a little more before you went to bed…"

"About…?" Bakura asked, raising a snowy eyebrow in question. He scowled when Ryou didn't answer. "Ryou, what is it that's bugging you?"

"…I just… I wanted to ask you a question," Ryou whispered, and Bakura took this as a sign it wasn't going to be a mere innocent inquiry.

"Then shoot," Bakura said, sitting cross-legged on the bed as he stared at the skinny teen through the dark.

"Bakura… D-Did… Did you ever think about leaving me?" Ryou whispered, lips barely moving as he spoke. His voice trembled somewhat with fear. "W-When I was depressed and starving myself, a-and I wouldn't say anything to you or anyone… D-Did you ever think of abandoning me for your peace of mind?"

Bakura just stared at the boy for a long moment, before his crimson eyes blinked once as he released a sigh, "Do you want an honest answer?"

Ryou nodded once, fearful.

"…It came to my mind a few times," Bakura murmured, eyes falling to his hands, which were clasped in his lap. "It really hurt to see you, Ryou, to try to continue on life with you like there was nothing wrong. A few times, I… I even packed my bags so that I could leave and escape to a better world. But I knew if I did that… You would break. I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I caused your world to crumble around you like that…"

"Did you hate me?" Ryou asked, his eyes growing red-rimmed, but they remained dry.

"Ryou… I could never hate you," Bakura answered honestly, reaching out towards the boy. A delicate, almost sad smile touched the demon's pale lips as he placed his hand atop of the boy's head, ruffling snowy strands of hair. "It was just…really hard to deal with. I felt really bad, knowing I was useless in trying to help you. But eventually, I realized I would only cause worse things if I left you, so I knew I could do nothing more than to stick around to support you when you needed it. And eventually, I figured out nothing was going to change unless I tried to act…"

Ryou sniffed once, nodding weakly.

"Hey… Don't cry, it wasn't your fault…" Bakura sighed gently. "Ryou, please, no tears…"

"I-I'm sorry," Ryou whimpered, chin trembling as he struggled to hold the crystal droplets in. "P-Please don't be mad-"

"I'm not angry," Bakura murmured, wiping a stray teardrop away with the back of one bony finger. "Just calm down. I'm not going to yell at you or hurt you, I told you that-"

"B-But you used to do it all the time," Ryou weakly protested, eyes glimmering with tears. "You would always get mad at me and yell at me and then hit me as hard as you could-"

"I was angry at myself, not you," Bakura cut in, eyes saddened as he rubbed Ryou's arm. "I hated myself for not being to help. And to see you with that doll every minute of the day, it frustrated me to know my attempts were going to waste…"

"T… Then… You've never hated me?" Ryou whispered, tears leaking from insecure chocolate orbs.

"Never, and I never will," Bakura murmured, ruffling the boy's hair again playfully. "I promise I won't get angry at you again, ever…"

Ryou blinked as Bakura suddenly pulled back, the demon giving the tiniest of smiles. The said man put his legs against the floor as he stood up, and began walking towards the door. He lingered in the doorway, fingers hovering over the light switch. Then, "Get some sleep, Ryou."

The man flicked off the lights then, and vanished into the hallway, leaving the door ajar, just slightly.

Ryou smiled in the dark, before snuggling under the covers as he watched Bakura's shadow fade as the man went down the hallway.

The said man had just made it into his room, and quietly, he slipped inside, closing the door after himself. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights, knowing the layout of his room by heart by now.

Bakura made his way across the room, tugging off his clothes in the process. By the time he made it to his bed, he was wearing nothing but his boxers, his clothing cast upon the floor.

He climbed into bed, lying on his back as he stared up at the ceiling. He folded his arms behind his head, grinning just slightly up at the blank, cream colored covering over his head.

His heart felt the lightest it ever had in the past year. He rolled over onto his side, staring at the darkened wall for a long time in the blackness.

He let out a content sigh, letting his eyes slip shut as he put his arms down to his sides. The blankets remained about his waist, and he burrowed into the mattress slightly, unable to contain the grin on his lips.

He felt so much better with all that off his chest.

* * *

Chapter 3: End.

A/N: THE END.

Yays! Anywho, that's it for this little ficlet. I'm hard at work on "Testify", and "Unchained" should be out by mid-week, hopefully! I hope to hear from you guys!


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